


Once Upon a Time in Thedas

by DarlingRutherford



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Love at First Sight, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2020-11-23 02:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20884493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarlingRutherford/pseuds/DarlingRutherford
Summary: DA!Fairy Tale Cinderella AU. No-Blight AU. Circles are only used for dangerous mages, others are only kept a close eye on by the Chantry. References to physical and mental abuse throughout the story. This will be a short fic with a T+ rating, and will have a secondary fic as a sequel with a more explicit rating.Lana Surana spent her entire life dreaming of a time when she would be free of her abusive parents, never thinking it would come true. When Denerim holds a ball for newly crowned King Alistair to find his Queen, she finds herself swept away into a world she never thought could be possible.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I'm breaking my rule of only posting one ongoing work at a time. The idea for this was born on Tumblr from something a wonderful follower had mentioned, about how my Surana being able to become Queen sounded like Cinderella (I'm so sorry I can't remember who suggested it, I looked through my Tumblr but couldn't locate it. Let me know if it was you!)
> 
> I have no real posting timeline for fics, so my apologies if updating is rather sporadic. 
> 
> This fic will probably have shorter chapters than my other DA fic, but may change chapter to chapter.  
For the purposes of this story, I wanted to essentially block each scene with a chapter rather than mashing them together as I often do for long chapters, so that's why this first one is so short :) 
> 
> This fic will have mentions and a few brief scenes of mental and physical (not sexual) abuse, so this is your warning for that! 
> 
> Other than that, enjoy!

Once upon a time, there lived a young elf named Lana. She lived with her mother and father on the outskirts of Denerim in a small cottage surrounded by trees and brush. Denerim was a large city in Ferelden, home to many different kinds of people: humans, elves, even the occasional dwarf or two who had come to the city looking to trade. Shops of all kinds paved the city: apothecaries, smiths, inns, even a few rarities shops run by mages who had managed to scrape their way to a better living despite their Maker-given gifts. Being a mage wasn’t considered a blessing by many. They could be dangerous, unpredictable. As such, the Chantry kept a close watch on all mages, requiring them to live within a city limit so that the Templars could keep an eye on them. Circles existed to contain any mage deemed too dangerous or those who would refuse to abide by Chantry rule, but those who kept quiet and to themselves could live a simple life. 

Lana had come into her magic at the age of eight, much to the displeasure of her parents. There had been an argument, one started in a moment of hot headedness when Lana had questioned her mother. When the back of her mother’s hand made contact with her face, ice had sprung from Lana’s fingertips and frozen the floorboards beneath her feet. That was the day Lana sustained her first scars: one, on her forearm from a knife her mother had swung at her in anger, and another, a small knick close to her left eye, just before her father had forced the knife from her hand. Lana had spent three days in her parent’s dark hall closet while they argued and ultimately decided, with council from the local Chantry, what to do with her. Since that day ten years ago, Lana had been confined to their home. Her parents were _devout_ Andrastians. They were ashamed of having a mage be of their blood, and wished nothing more than for all of Denerim to forget that Lana even existed. And, for some time, they did.

All her days after that frightful, fateful moment had been spent focusing on the Chant, taking care of their home, and trying to suppress the magic inside of her. Lana did the best she could. Some days she woke up with her pillow cold as ice, or a flame would spark from her fingertips when she was having trouble lighting the hearth. Each time a panic would set in deep in her gut, and after a quick look to ensure neither of her parents had _seen_, she would carefully remove any evidence and pray to the Maker to make it _stop_ while she atoned throughout the day. 

Each day began the same for Lana: she would wake just before the sun to recite from the Chant, brush out her hair, and braid it in a simple, tight braid that her mother preferred her to wear. Then she would dress before quietly making her way into the kitchen. Breakfast would be complete by the time her parents woke, hot tea heated on the hearth and _not_ by magic to be on the table waiting. The three of them would sit at the table, say a morning prayer from the Chant before their meal, and eat in silence. Occasionally there would be a harsh remark from one of her parents: her mother would remind her to sit up straight; her father would remind her of something she missed in her chores the day before, which her mother would reprimand her for later. Then Lana would clear the table, clean the dishes, and work on sweeping the house if the sun was out. Her parents would sit at the table, and Lana would take her time sweeping while they discussed the happenings about Denerim as of late. She would listen eagerly as she worked, wanting to soak in everything they said. Later she would take what she heard, sit at her windowsill, and daydream about life in Denerim for those without magic. 

In her daydreams, she thought of the bustle of the city, all the sounds and all the different people who would be there. She thought of the shops, the different types of trade found throughout that made Denerim the city it was. She had seen the Royal Palace once, when she was much younger, from the outside as she walked quickly at her father's side on their way to the market. Its gates had seemed so large at the time, stone walls surrounding it but not quite containing the sound of those running back and forth about their daily duties from within. Every so often Lana would imagine what it would be like to wander the city again, with someone else at her side, someone other than her father; someone she could walk hand in hand with, when they could walk leisurely without rush. As her face would flush from the thought, she would pull herself from the dream. That's all it was, after all. Just a dream. Who in their right mind would love a mage?

Lana’s days weren’t entirely filled with chores. She had become quite proficient at them, and as such was able to afford a good amount of her day to reciting the Chant as her parents preferred for her. They allowed her to choose where she spent that time, as long as it was within their small property. Between her bedroom and the small garden that surrounded their home, Lana found her peace. When the sun hit her face, Lana felt she could breathe again. No matter how the day had been, as long as she had behaved herself, she had the sun. Even when confined to her room when her mother had decided it was needed, Lana’s window faced West, and the sun always found her. On a day such as today, when Lana had made her mother happy with her - as much as a mage could - she found herself on her knees in the garden near her window, the sun warming her face as she recited the Chant.

“..._So the Maker turned from his firstborn and took from the Fade a measure of its living flesh and placed it apart from the Spirits, and spoke to it, saying, ‘Here, I decree opposition in all things: For earth, sky; For winter, summer_ -’”

“_‘For darkness, Light.’_”

“Sister Leliana!” Lana rose from the ground as she heard the light voice of the Chantry Sister. As an established mage in Denerim, the Chantry kept a close watch on Lana. Traveling from Lothering, Sister Leliana had been assigned to her for going on a year then, after Lana’s last Sister had taken a missionary sabbatical to the Free Marches. The Sister would check up on her twice a week, and Lana often found herself clinging to the opportunity to see the face of someone other than her parents. “Is it Tuesday already?”

“No, it _is_ Monday,” Leliana said with a smile. “I will have special business tomorrow that will keep me from you. I thought it best to stop by and see how you are doing.”

“I should tell my -”

“I already spoke with your mother,” Leliana said. She smiled as Lana visibly relaxed at her reassurance. “How have you been since I last saw you?”

“Very well, thank you,” Lana said. Leliana waved her hand and walked to the edge of the garden near a tall oak tree, and Lana followed. They sat in the shade, elbows close to one another. 

“How are you _really_?” Leliana asked, her voice lower than before. She took Lana’s hand, turning it over to observe a fresh scar near her elbow. “They don’t listen to us talk, you know. Out here, it’s just the two of us.”

“It’s fine. I… I upset her,” Lana said quietly. “I accidentally used… I shocked her when she grabbed me.”

“I see.” Leliana was quiet for a moment as Lana fidgeted with the end of her braid. Her braid was the same always, and this day was no different: close to her head, beginning on one side near her temple and ending on the other at the nape of her neck, not a hair out of place. The sun glimmered off her red strands, glittering like fire in the light that filtered through the branches of the tree.

“How are things in Denerim?” Lana asked, trying her best to not sound_ too_ eager. 

“You are in Denerim _too_, you know,” Leliana said with a knowing smile. 

“I know,” Lana laughed quietly. “It’s just… it’s so _quiet_ here.”

“You heard they chose a new King a month ago?”

“I did, yes.” Lana’s face lit up, as it always did whenever she and Leliana spoke about anything new. Reciting the Chant and speaking of the Maker with the Sister was wonderful and all, but Lana yearned for the world outside their home more than anything. It was a world she felt she would never know, despite its closeness, and she wished more than anything to live vicariously through the Sister as much as she could.

“He was crowned this past week,” Leliana said. “He will have to find a Queen soon, I assume.”

“Should be easy for royalty. I can’t imagine any woman would say no to a life of living in a castle. Can you imagine?”

“Would _you_ say yes?” Leliana teased.

“Don’t be ridiculous, why would _I _be asked?” Lana flushed, then horror washed over her face. “I’m _so sorry_, Sister, I didn’t mean to say that _you _are -”

“I know what you meant,” Leliana reassured her. “It will be our little secret. Now then… Which part of the Chant would you like to discuss today?”

Lana and Sister Leliana spoke to one another for a few hours. Lana always appreciated how much time Leliana took with her. The other Sisters had been content with an hour here or there, but Sister Leliana seemed to genuinely sympathize with Lana's life, and Lana's parents would never question a Sister of the Chantry. By the time Sister Leliana had left on her way, the sun had begun to fall and Lana rushed inside to help her mother in the kitchen.

“Don't think that you can shirk your duties just because Sister Leliana was with you today,” her mother warned.

“Yes, mother, of course,” Lana said. She quickly grabbed a pot from above the stove and went about lighting the wood below the stove. 

“What did you two discuss today?”

“We spoke of Threnodies, and the Maker's creation of the world.” Lana grabbed a knife from the table, trying to make quick work of the potatoes. She turned them in her hand, trying to peel quickly with the sharp knife.

“For _three hours_?” Her mother scoffed. “You had better be able to recite it_ backwards_ to me after - now_ look_ at what you've done! If you've_ bled_ on the potatoes…”

Lana dropped the knife, holding her bleeding finger tightly in her hand. She angled her hand away from the table, quickly scanning her eyes and feeling relief wash over when she saw no blood on the table. She felt warm for a moment, and then the pain in her hand almost melded into nothing. Her mother grabbed her injured hand, tearing it towards her face and Lana's stomach opened like a pit. Her finger was stained in blood, but the offending wound had closed as if it were a week old. In her panic, she had worried of the wound itself offending her mother and she had healed it. An eerie silence broke over the home, the calm before the storm as time seemed to stop. She could see the red rushing to her mother's face, could feel time speeding up. Lana began speaking quickly, her brain racing.

“I didn't - I didn't _mean to_ -”

“_Do not_ talk to me after you did_ that_… _unholy thing_ in _my house!_” 

Lana audibly winced as her mother grabbed her by the long point of her ear. She had to bend low to offset the pain as her feet quickly followed her mother's. She strained to look up, her stomach sinking and panic setting in as she saw them heading straight towards the closet.

“Mother, _please_, I swear on the _Maker_ I didn't mean to -”

“I don't want to hear a_ sound_ from you until I open this door again!” Her mother yelled as she opened the door. Lana stumbled forward, grabbing at the wall for balance as she hit it. She turned around as the door slammed shut behind her. She could hear the lock turn as her mother forcefully turned the key, then the sound of her feet stomping away in anger, before silence took over. 

The closet was dark. It had always been dark, pitch black, and empty for this use and this alone. Lana couldn't see her shadow as she slid down against the wall. It was tight and, even as small as she was, she couldn't stretch out her legs. Normally her mother would punish any regular transgressions with a pinch, a bruise, something quick and then leave Lana to her room. The closet was reserved for magic, for when Lana went against the very stringent rules that her parents expected her to abide by in order to live in their presence. Lana had spent many hours in the closet when she was younger, when controlling the magic had been harder. Sometimes it was hours, sometimes a day, always dark, and alone. As she grew she had become better at suppressing the magic, but, occasionally, it took her by surprise, as it had that day. She shook against the wall in the darkness, knowing that when she finally did see the light again there would be hell to pay. Making noise would make it worse. It would make her mother leave her in there for longer if she heard, make the eventual punishment more terrible than it already would be. Lana hugged her knees close to her chest, burying her face against her legs. She cried silently, her lips moving as she recited the Chant barely above a whisper in hopes that the Maker would hear:

“_Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and d - do not falter… Blessed a - are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just… Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow... In their… In their blood... the Maker's will is written_.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair gets talked into hosting a ball to find a wife, while Leliana helps Lana with some troubles at home. A little lighter of a chapter than the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two coming your way! Another short one, again helping to set the scene for the next. This chapter is a bit lighter than the last content wise. Enjoy!

The Royal Palace in Denerim was large. Much, _much_ larger than the mabari pens Alistair had slept in as a child. His entire life had been a whirlwind - of vying for the attention of those who were supposed to be family, of trying to impress them and do what was asked of him so he could_ belong_ \- he had even suffered through templar training at the behest of his Uncle, Arl Eamon, who had passed him off at the behest of _his_ wife, only to drag Alistair _back_ to run a kingdom he hadn’t been raised to rule. Being King wasn’t easy. Not that Alistair had _expected_ it to be, but when Eamon had brought him to Denerim and presented him as the bastard son of the deceased King Maric, he had expected that maybe he would have at least been _okay_ at it. Why else would Eamon have suggested him for the job if it hadn’t been true? _‘Bastard son of the previous King, half brother of the deceased’ _didn't exactly flow off the tongue otherwise. Alistair felt at a loss, though, clinging to the advisors that had been appointed to him at every matter thrust his way. Thankfully, everything to fall in his lap had been _apparently_ on the easier side of things - small squabbles between parishes, lands arguments between farmers, no all out wars or large dealings with other countries as of yet. Still, it seemed like quite a lot for only having been crowned for a _week_, and Alistair was already exhausted.

“_Maker’s breath_, is it going to be like this every day?” Alistair sat at the head of the table in the council chamber, groaning as he and his advisors finished combing the stack of papers in front of Eamon. It had been a long day - the same as each the past week - and his brain found itself wanting to quickly vacate his body. He felt little sympathy being thrown his way, since everyone around him had been more groomed into a life of high service than himself, though the sympathetic huff from the mabari at his feet did make him feel a _little_ heard.

“You have only just ascended the throne, your Majesty,” Eamon said from his seat to the left of Alistair. “The people of Ferelden have been without a king for months while others vied for that power. It will take time to return to the peace we were once at.”

“In the meantime, there is one more item on our agenda for today,” Teagan spoke from the other side of Eamon.

“Fine, what is it?” Alistair asked as he picked up his cup, looking at the water as if hoping it would gain him a sliver more of energy.

“It is _most_ important,” Eamon said. “As King of Ferelden, you must have a wife chosen.”

“A _what_?” Alistair sputtered as he choked on the water that had been halfway down his throat. The mabari perked his head up, tilting his head in concern with a whine. “_Maker_, I’ve _only just_… Right _now_?”

“Not this _very moment_, but Ferelden _must_ have a Queen with which you can continue the Theirin bloodline,” Eamon said.

“First you’re talking about _marriage_ and then you jump right to _babies_? I can’t decide that all in _one day!_”

“You needn’t _decide_ at all. As your advisors, we have compiled a list of eligible women. We may decide which would be best suited to -”

“You _can’t_ expect me to marry some random noble woman you chose from a _list_?” Alistair asked, interrupting Eamon in exacerbation. A few of the other advisors sighed, as if growing impatient with how long the day had dragged on. “Maker, I’ve… Everything in my life has been chosen for me, surely I at least should choose my own_ wife_ if I have to have one? And not from some… _list_. What if I don’t even like any of them enough to _love_ them?”

“Love is _earned_ in many marriages of birth,” Eamon sighed, his patience with Alistair clearly waning.

“_No_. I won’t leave something like that up to chance,” Alistair said firmly.

“And _how _do you expect to meet your _perfect woman_ while you are spending your days in these meetings?” Eamon asked.

“We could throw a ball,” Teagan suggested. Eamon looked at Teagan in disbelief, as if his brother should have been trying to convince Alistair to allow _them_ to choose. Teagan glanced at Eamon with only a hint of an apology, before looking at Alistair and continuing. “To celebrate King Alistair’s coronation, and to allow him to choose a bride. A three night event all eligible women may attend.”

“Three nights? Is that all?” Alistair grimaced. Three nights seemed barely enough time to get to know a person, let alone the woman he was expected to spend the rest of his life with and make _children_ with.

“It is either that, or our list,” Eamon sighed. Alistair paused, leaning back as he mulled it over. It wasn’t ideal, but, then, was any of this? Everything, from his title to the clothes he wore, had been chosen for him. If they would allow him to choose this, to choose a person who he could perhaps love enough to be a true partner to him, well, he supposed he would have to take it.

“And I get to choose _anyone_ there?”

“Yes, but you _must_ choose on the third night,” Eamon said firmly. “If you do not, we shall choose for you.”

“I want _any_ woman allowed to attend, _regardless_ of status.”

“_Regardless of_ -”

“My own mother worked in the kitchens, or so I was told,” Alistair interrupted Eamon. His voice was more stern, unwilling to budge. Why should he limit himself to nobility, to people who would only want to be there for the chance to be Queen? He was sure it would be difficult to find anyone who didn’t have that as their number one priority, but perhaps then he would at least be able to find someone who meshed with him well. Someone he could have _actual_ conversations with, rather than constantly bringing up the _affairs of state_ and other subjects that bored him to no end.

“Very well,” Eamon grumbled in defeat. “We shall draw up the plans for the ball. Let it be held the third week of Harvestmere. Unwed ladies of _all_ status shall be interested to attend. By the end of the third night, King Alistair will announce his choice, or _we _will, if none are chosen.”

“Does this mean _he_ gets to choose one as well? Are _you _inviting all the _eligible mabari_ in Ferelden? Since Bryn is _King of the Mabari_, and all,” Alistair joked. The mabari at his feet barked loudly and enthusiastically, his little tail wagging wildly. Eamon only groaned, muttering under his breath as Teagan choked down a laugh.

* * *

Two weeks had gone by since Lana had been locked in the closet by her mother. The offense had cost her an entire day, as her mother grew more and more frustrated with Lana's ‘outbursts’ of magic. Since then Lana's days had been rather uneventful, back to her normal routine, with some minor changes. As part of her punishment, Lana's mother had confined her to her room when she was not finishing her chores. She had been careful as ever, and spent as much time as possible in her room near her sunny window, knowing that if enough time went by of her behaving her mother would eventually allow her outside again. This particular day Sister Leliana had come by, and together they sat on her bed with legs crossed as they spoke with hushed tones.

“It's not right,” Sister Leliana was saying. Lana's hand was in her palm, and her fingers delicately rewrapping the bandage on Lana's pinky finger. The finger was slightly off-set and swollen, even after the two weeks had passed. Lana winced slightly at how tight Leliana was tying the bandage, although Leliana had assured her she knew what she was doing.

“Sister -”

“Yes, that's right. I _am_ a Sister, and I say it isn't right. This isn't what the Maker wishes for you, Lana,” she said softly. She tied off the bandage gently before continuing. “Many parents must deal with the change magic brings to a family, but she needn't break your finger for it. It is _vile…_ You should let me reset it. It is not healing correctly.”

“It hurts too much… I don’t want to upset her by being too loud.” Lana had spent the past two weeks being as quiet as possible. If she upset her mother now, she wasn’t sure if she would even be allowed the window in her room going forward.

“Maybe one of these days I will happen to stop by when she is not here. Then we may set it correctly.”

“You aren't like the other Chantry Sisters who have checked on me in the past,” Lana said with an appreciative smile.

“Want to know a secret?” Leliana smiled as Lana nodded. She leaned in closer, whispering more quietly for emphasis. “I wasn't always a Sister.”

“Really?”

“I was a bard.”

“What?” Lana clapped her hand over her mouth as the word burst loudly from her tongue. The two of them laughed quietly.

“It’s true. In Orlais, for some time. I traveled all over, performing at great palaces and learning all their secrets. I have seen enough to know the good of mages. I _know_ you did not deserve this. The Maker knows too, I am sure.”

“Tell me about Denerim, please,” Lana asked as she wiped her eyes. Compliments were difficult for Lana. She appreciated every word, more than Leliana could know, but there was always a part of her that refused to believe it. Her mother had spent Lana’s entire life telling her just the opposite. How could it be true?

“Of course,” Leliana said with a smile. “Did you hear the King is to pick a bride? They will be holding a grand ball for his decision. Three nights, of parties, and music, and all the women for him to pick from.”

“Maker, that would be a wondrous sight,” Lana sighed with a smile on her face. Her eyes trailed up to the roof as if picturing it. “Can you imagine? All the ball gowns, the dancing, all the _people. _I wonder if there will be other elves there? What kind of food will they have? Have you been to such a thing before?”

“I have, yes.” Leliana smiled. She watched Lana for a minute, her face never changing from one of wonderment as if she were still imagining it. “Would _you_ like to go?”

“Me? A _mage?_” Lana laughed incredulously.

“Why not?” Leliana asked. “I would be _shocked_ if you were the only mage in attendance. Many mages are not kept within the walls of their home as you are, Lana.”

“I… Don't think my parents would allow me to,” she said. The smile faded from her face, her eyes moving to the bed. “It would be nice, if only to see it once. But, I haven't even been to the marketplace since I was a child. And I would stick out like a sore thumb among all their graceful clothing in my own.”

“What if someone were to _give_ you clothes for it?” Leliana raised her brows suggestively. “You must live a little, Lana. I worry what will happen to you if you live your entire life cooped up in this home.”

“Not everyone has grand lives, I’m afraid… It's not a life meant for me. I'll just have to dream about it.”

“Don't give up on your dreams,” Leliana said with a sparkle in her eyes. “You never know when they'll come true.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to everyone leaving kudos and comments! They're super appreciated! 
> 
> This chapter was still a bit short, I'm hoping to expand them a bit more as we go along, but I'm kind of liking the idea of posting shorter scenes in lieu of long chapters that contain multiple ones. It helps ensure that I update a little more frequently. We'll see how that goes! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first night of the ball, and Lana finds someone tapping on her window in the dark of the night.

Three weeks had passed since Leliana had helped with Lana’s hurt finger. Things had been quiet for the most part, and Lana had enjoyed the calm as much as she could. As soon as the sun went down, once dinner was finished and the kitchen clean, Lana always went straight to bed. When she was younger her mother would check on her throughout the night and reprimand her if her candle burned too late, but at this stage of her life she had learned and they in turn had learned to trust her in that respect. Tonight had been the same as most nights, and though Lana's parents had long since gone to sleep, she found herself sitting on her bed, her hand cupped along the back of a candle to dim its projection as she quietly read one of the books her father had leant to her. It was old, one Lana had read until the pages had frayed at the edges over time. The book told the story of Andraste in a more fantastical manner than the Chant of Light, something meant to entertain children who needed more than cryptic prose and verses. Her mother had insisted that she had outgrown it, but it was one of the areas her father had indulged her. Lana loved the stories of Andraste, of the great battles she had fought on behalf of the Maker, the adventures she had experienced, down to the betrayal by her husband to Tevinter. It was quite morbid for a children's book perhaps, but Lana was fascinated by it.

As Lana turned the page, she jumped as she heard a light tapping on her window. She waited, then it happened again. Maker, was a bird trying to get in? Perhaps an owl? She squinted as she scooted closer to the window, confusion spreading on her face as she saw the distinct outline of Sister Leliana's face. She had almost not recognized her, void of her usual Chantry dress wear and now in a deep purple dress. Quiet as she could, Lana opened her window.

“Sister?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, terrified of her parents hearing her. Sister Leliana waved her towards her with a mischievous smile on her face. Lana opened her mouth to speak, stopping as the Sister quickly moved away from the window and into the garden. Her heart pounding, Lana looked towards her door and listened intently. She hadn't heard a sound in the house for an hour, her parents having gone to bed when she had earlier. Quiet as a mouse, Lana took a leap of faith, putting out the candle and hopping out the window. Her bare feet hit the grass outside, cool dew making her shiver in her nightgown. Sister Leliana had stopped at the edge of the yard before turning around suddenly to face Lana.

“Would you like to go to the ball?”

Lana's mouth hung open. Of all the things to come out of the Sister's mouth, that had been the least of Lana's expectations.

“_What?”_ She asked in disbelief.

“You heard me.” Leliana was grinning wildly, her eyes practically twinkling in the dark.

“I can't - I can't _possibly_… I'm in a _nightgown_, and my _parents_ -”

“Were fast asleep when I peeked in their window,” Sister Leliana said. “Would you go? I can make sure you get home before they notice. We can leave at the stroke of midnight. _And_ I've found the_ perfect_ dress for you.”

“Why are you doing this for me?” Lana asked in disbelief. She could feel a well of emotions building inside of her, of fear and excitement and everything in between. She looked back at her room, as if she would have been able to hear her parents stirring in their bed.

“Because you deserve a little fun for once in your life. As your assigned Sister, I am hereby _demanding_ it,” Sister Leliana said. “You won't make me return the dress, will you?”

Lana had given in. She knew her punishment would be great if her parents ever found out, but the chance to see Denerim, to see the palace, and the _people_ \- it was all too tempting. Sister Leliana had led her to an outstretch of forest where she had hidden a small chest of goods behind the brush. From the chest the Sister had pulled a dress, deep blue in color with similarly colored lace that overlay the breast and flowed onto the off-the-shoulder sleeves. As Lana stared at the dress Leliana had placed in her arms, she watched as a pair of golden colored slippers were placed on top. The Sister had then promptly fussed about her, ensuring she got dressed in a timely manner beneath the light of the moon.

“Where did you get these?” Lana asked in awe. To any noble lord or lady, the dress would not have seemed anything special. It was simple, save for the cut of the dress and its pleats, not with any large petticoat of the sort she had seen in the drawings of children's books. Still, Lana was sure she had never worn anything so exquisite, and found herself unable to suppress the grin on her face as she twirled her hips back and forth to move the long skirt. Leliana laughed as she unbraided Lana's hair and fluffed it over to one side.

“A friend owed me a favor,” Leliana smiled knowingly. “Now, come on. We won't have much time if we take too long getting there.”

The two of them walked through the city on foot. As dark as it was, the streets were lit by lanterns that glowed onto the dirt. The closer they got to the palace, the more cobblestone was paved beneath their feet. Many shops near the marketplace were still open, “On account of the ball,” Leliana had explained. Lana became sidetracked many times by the various stores, peering in through the windows to see what goods they sold. There were shops selling dresses both plain and exquisite, shops with weapons and armory, ones with dried herbs that hung from the roofs and jars of concoctions she had never heard of. Leliana took her by the arm, delicately rerouting her down the path towards the palace.

There were so many people outside the palace, even more so inside. Lana was sure she had never seen so many people in one place before. Everyone was dressed impeccably. Women were dressed in their best gowns, covered in lace and pearls and feathers. There were a few in gold and silver masks, accompanied by men similarly outfitted. Many of the long hallways were open for the ball, but the main event was in the throne room. It had been outfitted for the ball, with great cuts of fabric draped from the ceiling in gold, white, and red to match the Fereldan banner. There was a small band of musicians at the top of the hall near the empty throne, and people dancing to the music in the center of the room. The sides of the hall had been lined with tables covered in various foods and drink, and servants walked around in matching outfits seeing to everyone's needs.

“This is… _amazing_.” Lana couldn't help but laugh with a smile on her face. In all her wildest dreams, she never could have imagined anything this grand.

“I want you to have_ fun_ tonight,” Leliana instructed, smiling brightly down at Lana. “Don't hold back. All right?”

“Okay,” Lana nodded, smiling ear to ear.

“Have you met Lady Casing yet? Her father is Lord Casing, of Calenhad. She rides horses in her spare time.” Eamon was talking, but at this point in the night, after three hours of people eagerly rambling at him and pining for his attention, Alistair found it difficult to focus. “Alistair, are you _listening_ to me?”

“Yes, I met _Lady Casing_,” Alistair sighed. “She spent the entire time talking about her _summer estate_ and how she hopes she can _change things up_ once she's _Queen_.”

“Well, the Queen _will_ have a certain amount of influence on the palace, it's true.”

“She wants to ensure she only has _human ladies-in-waiting_ so as to cut down on the _stealing_.”

“There is an _entire room of ladies_ for you to choose from, your Majesty. If not Lady Casing, how about… Lady Roberts? She's an avid player of _chess_, the youngest of three…”

Alistair looked around the room a bit lacklusterly as Eamon continued on. Every lady who had shown up had seemed the same as the last: rich, spoiled women who talked highly of themselves and their families only to raise their brows in confusion the moment Alistair tried to bring up anything _not_ to do with wealth, land, or politics. At one point early on in the night, his mabari, Bryn, had snuck his way into the hall in search of a good scratch and a snack, easily crossing ten or so women from Alistair's list as they reacted in disgust. He tried to remind himself that there were three nights of this, but surely any woman interested would be there all three nights? If they were all there was to be, he had doubts of finding someone he could truly connect with at all. As he continued looking around - nodding periodically whenever Eamon's tone piqued as it did when he was asking a question - his eyes drifted over towards one of the tables against the wall, and his eyes stopped as he saw her, his heart fluttering. The woman stood near the table, her focus not on the food or anyone in particular, but on the dancing crowd further away.

“And, of course, you should meet Lady Ansling…”

Alistair nodded his head as if he were listening, but truth be told he could barely hear a thing. All his focus had moved onto this woman. Her fiery red hair lay about her face in a mess, quite contrary to the fancy updos of everyone else, as her eyes skated back and forth over the crowd. She seemed to be in as much awe as he felt, the kind of warm smile plastered across her face that he could feel from afar. She was _beautiful_. More beautiful than any woman he had laid eyes on that night. Eamon long forgotten, he left his spot in the corner and began walking towards the woman. He walked up beside her, pausing as he tried to find his brain which had conveniently decided to leave him the moment he neared her.

“Nice… Party, isn't it?” He started. He looked down at her, wondering after a moment if she hadn't realized that he had been speaking to her. He reached out and tapped her bare shoulder lightly. He grimaced as she jumped and saw the shock on her face. “Maker, I'm sorry. It's… Loud, I didn't know if you heard me.”

“Oh! I'm so sorry!” Lana said. The initial worry had faded from her face and was quickly replaced by a smile as she craned her neck up to look at him. Maker, but he must have been a foot taller than her if not more, she guessed. He was dressed quite nicely, in a smooth, brown doublet with a trim of darker brown, and a cotton white shirt with long sleeves underneath, though even his clothes were void of the fancy frill Lana had seen on the other lords there.

“Bit of a _dusty old place_, isn't it?” Alistair said. “I just came for the food, myself.”

“Oh?” Lana laughed, watching him as he took a small, bite-sized treat from a plate and popped it into his mouth. “Not for the dancing? I suppose they're all wanting to dance with the King, though. Probably smart to stick with the food. You might get thrown out if you're caught with the future queen.”

“Yes, that _would_ be unfortunate,” he chuckled. Maker, but she didn't know who he was? Alistair instantly felt himself relax, feeling more at ease with someone who would have no preconceived expectations from him. That meant she wasn't a noble, then. All the nobles seemed to already know his face, though many others had still known him from the hand drawn posters that had made it around the city announcing the ball. “Should I leave you alone, then? So the _King_ gets his turn. I wouldn't want to get thrown out if he has his eyes on you.”

“Oh, I don't think that'll be a problem,” she said. She flushed at his words, her hand tugging at strands of her hair nervously. “A… Friend brought me here, to enjoy it. I'm just taking it all in. I don't think _he _would be very interested in someone like me.”

“Why do you think that?” Maker, but even her modesty warmed his heart.

“Well, I'm not a noble, for starters.” Lana paused, her voice getting fairly quiet as she continued. “I'm a _mage_, as well.”

“Not exactly_ illegal_, is it? Being a mage.”

“No, but mages are dangerous… I can't imagine it would be smart, making one Queen.”

“So I could dance with you without worry of _royal retribution_, then?” He teased.

“You want to… Really?” She seemed shocked at his seemingly innocent proposal, her face reddening by the moment. “Even though… I just told you that I'm a…?”

“I've met dangerous people who_ weren't_ mages,” Alistair said, shrugging casually. “I have no reason to fear you, do I? Miss…?”

“Lana,” she said, and for a moment she was sure her face would melt from the heat that rushed to it.

“_Lana_. Maker, your name is very…” Alistair cleared his throat, feeling heat of his own rush to his cheeks. “I'm Alistair.”

“You have the same name as the King?” Lana asked, laughing lightly at the coincidence.

“We're one in the same, he and I,” He chuckled. “Now…Shall we grace their _grace’s_ presence on the dance floor?”

He bowed rather dramatically in front of her, grinning as she laughed at his presentation. He held out his hand for her, fairly certain he would hold the pose all night if needed. Lana bit her lip, looking around to see if she could find Leliana in the crowd to give her any sort of direction. When she couldn't locate her, Lana timidly placed her hand in his. Lana felt as if her heart would burst from sudden adrenaline as Alistair whisked her off to the dance floor in no time at all. Her heart pounded as he placed a hand lightly on her waist.

“I don't know how to dance,” she admitted sheepishly.

“That makes two of us. Just follow my lead,” Alistair said, giving her a quick wink. “Well, I've had a _few _lessons recently, but they were rather rushed and the teacher was pretty _awful…_ Either that or I was so bored out of my mind I've forgotten it all.”

“Bored from dancing?” Lana repeated in disbelief. She looked down at their feet as Alistair began, trying to follow his motions.

“I suppose with the right partner, it's all right,” he said. He smiled as he watched her concentrate, each step carefully taken. “Don't think about it too much. You're doing _great_.”

“Just… Follow you, right?”

“Right.” Alistair felt his heart flutter as her eyes met his again. They were such a deep blue, like how he imagined the ocean at its deepest point. Red spread across her cheeks again the longer he stared at her, and he couldn't help the stupid grin that plastered on his face. “Are you enjoying the ball?”

“It's unlike anything I've ever seen,” Lana said. Her eyes darted around as they danced, trying to take in everything from the new angle. More people had gathered around the dancefloor than she had remembered a moment ago, some dancing, others watching. “I've never seen so many people… I feel like they're watching us.”

“Probably because you're such a good dancer.”

“What?” Her head snapped back to look at him with a smile. She felt as if every word he directed towards her was making her flush, and she wasn't wrong. He seemed so genuinely interested in her, it was almost alarming. At the same time, it felt… _Incredibly_ nice.

“Putting them all to shame with your _perfect_ moves.” He grinned as she laughed. “I bet you're secretly a bard or something, come to _seduce the king_ and set the kingdom in turmoil.”

“That's it. You've found me out,” Lana snorted.

“I knew it,” Alistair scoffed. “That's all right. I'll keep your secret, if you keep mine.”

“Oh? What's that?”

“I'm here to do the same. _Don't you laugh_ \- I'm _very_ seductive, I'll have you know!”

“Really? When's the last time you seduced an _unsuspecting_ target?” She teased.

“Well… If you _must_ know… Right now.”

“_Me?_”

“You said you're a mage, right? I figure... I seduce _you_, you use your _magical ways_ to get me to the King’s chambers…”

“You think you're_ seducing_ me with a few steps to the side and back?” Lana laughed.

“Oh, I haven't shown you _all_ my moves just yet.” Alistair let go of her waist before lifting her hand high above her head. He moved his hand in a tight circle, spinning her until the skirt of her dress lifted from the ground around her ankles. Lana let out a loud squeal in surprise as she was spun, the hall a blur to her as her eyes tried to focus on _anything_, but ultimately failed. When Alistair finally stopped spinning her, she tripped over her feet as she stumbled while the floor seemingly moved beneath her. Alistair quickly caught her, and the two of them laughed loudly as she clung to his arms for balance.

“I _don't_ think we're behaving _quite_ properly, judging on the face of _Lord Pompous _in the mask over there…” Alistair murmured quietly to her with an impish grin. Lana leaned back, her hands still gripping tightly into his arms, finding the man in the intricate silver mask wearing more frills than anyone else in the hall. He was sporting a scowl discernible even _with_ the mask, clearly unapproving of their playfulness at such a serious event. Lana tried to hold down a laugh, but one look at Alistair and she lost it, the laugh bursting from her simultaneously with his.

Time eluded the two of them. Lana and Alistair spent what felt like mere moments to them dancing. They talked the entire time, and for that time Lana was the happiest she had ever felt. Here was the first person she had spoken to outside of her parents and the Chantry in more than ten years, and he had looked on her more favorable than any of them ever had, even knowing full well that she was a mage. He was so kind, wanting to know as much about her as possible. She knew it wouldn't last long, but Lana felt herself wishing for a way to make that night last forever. After more than an hour, Alistair had looked behind her and grimaced as he saw Teagan waving him over. He paused his feet, smiling at Lana in regret.

“Give me one moment, I'll be right back,” he pleaded. He brought her hand up to his mouth and placed a warm kiss on the back of her hand. Heat spread like wildfire from her fingers to her face at the touch of his lips. She felt frozen to the spot as he left her, floating in the clouds high above the palace. Then, the sound of a great clocktower began to ring the hour, and her heart sunk. Midnight. She wondered if there was time to tell him, and then she saw Sister Leliana near the arched doorway waving for her. She had to go. She looked around the room, unable to find Alistair on account of her short stature and the crowd that had gathered where he had gone. She bit down her disappointment, reminding herself that this was all a short lived dream after all, and ran towards the door.

When Alistair had finished speaking with Teagan, he found himself distraught. He scanned the hall with no luck, no sign of the red hair that was burned into his memory. She was nowhere to be found. He left to wander the halls looking for her in case she had gone to get some air, still coming up empty and wondering what he had said wrong. Eventually Eamon had found him, insisting that he return to the ball. Alistair reluctantly followed him back, praying to the Maker that she'd return the following night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much to everyone who has been reading, and those who have left kudos and such nice comments! I hope you all enjoyed this latest chapter. I'm currently working on the next chapter, although I'm also in the middle of packing for a move so the next one may not come out quite as quickly as these last few have. We'll see! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lana returns to the ball for the second night, and finds Alistair eagerly waiting for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry for how long it took me to come up with this chapter! I've had a lot going on recently and this one took a bit longer than I was expecting. Big thank you to [Schoute from Tumblr](https://schoute.tumblr.com/) for surprising me with the art below of Lana and Alistair from this fic, which is not only the most amazing thing, but also inspired me to finish up this chapter <3 Thank you, Scout! You're the best! <3

Beautiful art of Lana and Alistair by [@Schoute on Tumblr!](https://schoute.tumblr.com/) Thank you so much for your amazing support and for bringing my beautiful babes to life! <3

* * *

Lana was floating on a cloud. She had felt that way since the previous night, falling asleep with a dreamy smile on her face and waking up with it still present. She couldn't get the ball out of her head, least of all Alistair. She knew it wouldn't do well for her to dwell on the memory of him and the time they had spent together, but she couldn't help it. She could still feel his hand on her waist, hear his laughter and smooth voice. _Maker_, she had never seen _anyone_ look at her the way he had, as if no one else at the ball had existed and she were _worthy_ of his attention. And the _feeling_ of his hands. His touch had been so soft. When had anyone touched her that way before? As she swept the floor, Lana swayed side to side, humming to herself as she imagined the two of them on the dancefloor, together once more. Would he be there again that night? Would he want to dance with her again? She barely knew him, and yet she knew she would give anything to dance closely with him again, if only for one more night.

_Is this what love feels like?_

Her heart fluttered as the question crossed her mind. Red rushed to her cheeks, a smile forming at the corners of her mouth as she floated with the broom. Her feet mirrored his, following the pattern of one of the slower songs they had danced to. If she closed her eyes, it was almost as if she were there…

“How can you expect to see what you're sweeping when your eyes are _closed!_”

Lana was jarred out of her daydream, reality crashing into her as her mother smacked her ear. She tried to control her wincing as her ear stung, quickly returning her gaze to the floor as she swept faster.

“Sorry, mother,” she said quickly. Her mother huffed, mumbling under her breath as she returned to her work in the kitchen. Lana hummed no more, but the smile slowly crept back as she swept, as the feeling of Alistair's hands on hers returned and led the way.

That evening Leliana returned once more, once the sun had long since set and Lana's parents had gone to sleep. This time Lana was ready, waiting at the window for the moment Leliana’s silhouette appeared in the garden.

“You're awfully eager to return, aren't you?” Leliana teased as Lana quietly climbed out her window and carefully closed it behind her. Lana smiled eagerly as she followed Leliana, waiting until they were away from the house before she spoke.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it all day,” she said, her voice still a whisper despite how far they had walked into the woods. Leliana led her to the same spot as before, and Lana eagerly changed into the blue dress and golden slippers.

“You danced with that _tall man_ for some time,” Leliana said with a knowing grin. Lana blushed at the mention of Alistair, her heart pounding eagerly. “Is he being kind to you? Sometimes nobility can be a bit pushy.”

“I’m not so sure he’s a noble,” Lana said. Leliana had moved to her back, undoing her braid and resetting it into one looser that ran towards her back. She twisted the hair at the sides, weaving it through the braid.

“No?” Leliana smiled as she finished with Lana’s hair before looping her arm with hers and starting off towards the main road.

“He made jokes about some of the nobility quietly a few times. I’m not sure if that’s something lords do?”

“Is that what you two were giggling about?”

“He is awfully funny,” Lana said. She barely paid attention to everything they passed on the way to the palace this time, too engrossed in her thoughts about Alistair and her excitement of seeing him again. “I hope he’ll be there again tonight. Do you think he will be?”

“I’d be _very_ surprised if he wasn’t,” Leliana said. If Lana didn’t know any better, she would have thought the way Leliana spoke about Alistair sounded almost teasing, as if she knew him. Still, Lana supposed, Leliana was a Sister of the Chantry. She must have known a great many people.

As the two of them walked up the great steps into the palace and inside, Lana looked around the hall, observing everyone. All the ladies seemed to be in dresses and gowns more extravagant than the night before, some glittering with gems while others had intricate embroidery hand stitched to expensive fabrics. One of the women walked by, wearing a gown gold in color with shimmering lace and a skirt that dragged on the ground. Lana felt the judging glance as the woman looked Lana over from head to toe, apparently recognizing her dress from the night before. The woman smirked with a huff and a proudly tilted chin as she walked by. Leliana patted Lana on the shoulder, giving her a quick wave before slipping off into the crowds. As Lana began looking around, she jumped as she heard a loud _bark_ from a door near the back of the hall. Quite a few guests jumped out of the way of something Lana couldn’t see, until a great grey body running on four legs found its way through the crowd and stopped suddenly at her feet. Lana had never seen a mabari in person until then, however she had read about them in books and quickly recognized the face of an intelligent creature pining for attention as it barked up at her.

“Hello there,” Lana said sweetly. The mabari was massive, with its nose parallel to Lana’s chest. She reached out, petting the dog on his head. The dog eagerly pushed his nose up against her hand before directing her hand behind his ear.

“He’s _obsessed_ with ear scratches.”

Lana looked up, her heart pounding as she found Alistair walking towards her with a huge smile on his face. He had completely stepped around the woman from before and a group of others, and for a moment Lana wondered why they all looked so perturbed.

“Is he?” Lana’s voice practically cooed as she looked back at the dog, curling her fingers and scratching behind his ear as his tongue flopped out excitedly.

“He’ll never let you leave now,” Alistair chuckled. “Not many of the guests enjoy when he crashes the party.”

“Well, they don’t know what they’re missing, do they?”

Alistair smiled as Lana gave Bryn another pat on his nose before the dog took off towards the other doorway.

“I had almost thought you weren't coming,” he admitted. Maker, but he couldn’t stop smiling now that she was there. The night so far had been so dull without her. Even something as simple as hearing her voice was enough to raise his spirits and calm his racing mind.

“After last night, how could I not?” Lana responded with a bright smile, looking up at Alistair with warmth in her eyes.

“You left so quickly, I wasn't sure… Did I say something wrong?”

“No! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… I, well… Had a curfew,” she said quickly. She didn't want to lie, but, _‘My parents don't want me here. Or out of the house, at all,’_ was difficult to say. At least it wasn't a complete lie.

“Well, _that's_ a relief,” Alistair said, visibly relaxing as he breathed out the words. “You've only just arrived… Do you want to… Eat something? Have a drink? Dance again -”

“Dance! Yes, that would…” Lana paused to clear her throat, blushing at her own eagerness that had caused her to interrupt him. “I would _love_ to dance with you again.”

“After our practice last night, I _think_ I may step on your toes fewer times than before, but I make _no_ promises.”

Lana was on a cloud again, and this time, Alistair was with her. Everyone else in the hall seemed to fade away as they danced together. Alistair held her closer than the night before, never taking his eyes off of her as they talked, and laughed, and danced as one. More than once Alistair caught Lana humming along to the music, sometimes caught up in a song of her own, and each time he felt his heart fill more and more for this woman who had wandered into his life. As far as Alistair knew she was still blissfully unaware that he had recently been crowned King, and for the moment he was happy to keep it that way. For now, the woman who had more than once rested her head against his chest as they swayed to the slower songs only to straighten with a furious blush when she noticed, she was doing it because she felt comfortable, with _him_. With _Alistair_, not the _King_. Not the man people had been clamoring to speak to only for the hope of becoming his Queen. Somehow, miraculously, they had found one another, and he knew he couldn't let her slip away again.

“You'll be sick of dancing with me by the end of the night,” he joked as yet another song ended.

“I don't think that's possible,” Lana replied. Pink covered her cheeks, flushing towards her ears as she blushed. As another song began, Lana waited for Alistair to lead, tilting her head curiously as he paused.

“Come with me,” he said quietly with a grin. His hand left her waist, though his other gently squeezed her hand as his fingers laced with hers. Lana followed him as he led her off the dancefloor, weaving through the crowds.

“Where are we going?” Lana asked. Her heart was pounding as she bit her lip, her smile growing as he looked back at her.

“I wanted to show you something,” Alistair explained as he gently pulled her to the side. Lana followed him along the side of the hall and out a set of doors that led to a balcony. Outside it was much quieter, the sound of music and merriment drifting in from the hall inside. The night air was cool, wrapping around Lana and causing her skin to prickle. She paid no mind to the cold as she gripped the stone railing, her eyes fixed on the view of the palace courtyards and Denerim beyond, all seemingly peaceful in the light glow of torches.

“It's beautiful out here,” she breathed in awe. She had never seen the city like this from such a height, all the stars in the night sky twinkling down on them. Each night of the ball seemed like such a dream to her. She took her time, gazing out at the world in front of her, storing it in her mind for another day when she would need it most.

Alistair watched her, smiling at the way she looked at the world as if it were her first time seeing anything like it. The way she looked at everything was so innocent. Anyone else may have glanced at the view and turned away, but she was in awe of even the smallest things. Lana turned to look at Alistair, smiling as she found him watching her.

“Is this what you wanted to show me?”

“Yes. Well… Not exactly,” he admitted. He smiled sheepishly as he scratched just behind his ear, his eyes wandering to the stone railing as he tried to find his words. “I… Well, you see, I… And _you_ are _so_…” He trailed off, huffing slightly as he tried to focus. Maker, but this was more difficult than he had thought it would be. He looked over to the side, regarding a cluster of climbing roses that had reached the railing. He smiled, carefully picking one of the red roses from the branches. Twirling it in front of him for a moment, he finally found what he wanted to say.

“Denerim is large. There are so many people, but… It can be a bit _empty_. Ever since I came here from Redcliffe, I've had to strain to find anything that stands out from the rest. But, beautiful things seem to hide in plain sight, I suppose. Like this rose. Or… You.”

“Me?” Lana said it quietly, unsure if she should be shocked, flattered, or if he was out of his mind. She flushed from ear to ear as he offered the rose to her with a smile, feeling something akin to electricity run through her as their fingers brushed.

“I don't know if I should be _upset_, or _thrilled_ that you don't seem to know how beautiful you are,” Alistair chuckled nervously. “But… If I don't tell you now, someone else is _bound_ to, and I can't… I don't want to miss my chance… May I kiss you, Lana?”

“You want to kiss me?” Lana repeated in disbelief. She could feel heat rush to her face as he nodded and stepped closer to her. His hand wrapped around hers that held the rose as he leaned low. Lana's free hand raised to meet his arm as he steadied her, her grip tight as his lips met hers. Maker, but it was as if fireworks had set off in her mind. His touch was so gentle, so _warm_.

“_Maker_, I'm sorry,” Alistair mumbled quickly when he gently pulled away, and Lana quickly wiped away the tear that had fallen from her eye without her even noticing.

“No, please, it's not - it's a good thing, I think,” she said quietly. Her heart was pounding in her throat. Against her better judgement, ignoring the warning bells in her mind, she couldn't help herself. She found herself pressing onto the balls of her feet, stretching to get as close to him as possible, and Alistair eagerly met her the rest of the way. His kiss was like _air_. Each time their lips parted for a moment she would press back, and he in turn, each melding to the other as her lips quivered and his heart threatened to burst from his chest.

“Your Majesty! A _word?_”

Lana thought little of the words at first. Then, as Alistair begrudgingly pulled away from her, horror set in to her gut as he turned to face the man who had called for the King. Alistair gave Lana a regretful smile, taking her look of shock for general embarrassment from being caught kissing than anything else.

“I'll just be a moment. Don't go anywhere, please,” he said, bringing the back of her hand to his mouth and giving a much longer, warm kiss to it than the previous night. As Alistair walked to the other end of the long balcony to speak to the man, panic took over Lana. He was the _King_. Maker, but he had made that joke about sharing the same name - she had taken it only as such, a _joke_. She had just _kissed_ the _King of Ferelden._

“You need to spend time with the other noble ladies you have yet to speak to,” Eamon was muttering in a low voice. “You _cannot_ expect to find the next Queen of Ferelden if you spend all your time with one _elf_.”

“Yes, it would be a shame if I spent the entire evening with someone I _connected with_, wouldn't it?” Alistair responded sarcastically. “I know you have your list, but this woman is _perfect_. You should meet her -”

Alistair held his hand out to gesture towards Lana, turning his head and stopping mid sentence as he saw her dashing back into the hall. Not wanting to lose her for one more night, Alistair took off after her, leaving Eamon behind as he shouted after him. Alistair had difficulty getting through the hall, groups of lords and ladies both blocking his path as they vied for his attention. Each time, Alistair would profusely apologize as he ran around each group, trying to keep his eyes on Lana as she grew further and further away.

Lana's heart was pounding. Her watering eyes made it difficult to see as she tried to best remember how to get out of the palace. _Maker_, she was an idiot, thinking she could sneak out and have nothing bad happen. Her parents may not have caught her, but she had fooled _royalty_, tricked him into caring for her even in the slightest when she wasn’t fit for anyone. Surely that would carry a grand punishment on its own.

“Stupid, _stupid_ Lana,” she muttered with a quivering voice. Tears fell as she ran, her skin prickling as the cool night air met her. Her feet carried her quickly down the steps that led to the courtyard. She had nearly reached the bottom when she tripped, catching her ankle with her other foot. She cried out as she tumbled down a few steps and landed on the ground.

“Maker, my shoe,” she groaned as she got up. She began taking a step towards the stairs to retrieve the shoe that had slipped off in her fall, but the sound of Alistair yelling her name from just beyond the doors at the top made her stop. One shoe on her foot, she slipped through the gates and ran into the night.

By the time Alistair reached outside, Lana was nowhere to be seen. His heart sunk, confusion setting in for the second night in a row. He walked down the steps as something gold caught his eye, crouching as he picked up the small shoe. He stared at it in silence. Had it been something he said? Had he kissed her too soon? She had seemed to be enjoying it, had she only been being kind when she kissed him back? She hadn't seem to know the first night that he was the King, had it shocked her too much? He held the shoe close to him as he stood, taking one last look around, and praying to the Maker for her return the following night before heading inside.

Lana didn't stop running until she returned home. Out of breath, she removed the shoe and dress before stashing it in the brush near the tree her and Sister Leliana often spoke near - her parents would not venture near there, opting to stay inside as it had been so cold as of late. She would see Sister Leliana the following morning for her lessons, and return it to her then. Climbing quietly through her window, Lana slipped on her nightgown and threw herself beneath her covers. She curled into a ball, hugging her knees as she cried. _Maker_, but what a fool she had been. She had made a fool of Alistair as well - the _King_. Both of these nights he had been at her side, not knowing how unworthy she would be of the title of Queen. He had wasted all this time with her when he could have been finding the perfect woman for him. No matter _who_ he had been, it would have been a fairytale to expect her life to change after three nights. She had gotten wrapped up in the fancy of it, of being looked upon so favorably by his beautiful eyes. How could she possibly face him again after that night? Tomorrow would be like any other day: just her, her parents, her curse…

“Maker, forgive me,” she whispered to the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone reading, leaving kudos, and commenting! I don't have a timeline for updates of this fic, but I'm definitely already working on the next chapter as we speak!
> 
> In the meantime, feel free to follow me over on [Tumblr @DarlingRutherford](https://darlingrutherford.tumblr.com/) if you'd like. I post a lot about Lana and Alistair over there, as well as just general Dragon Age fun.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day comes, and Lana finds herself in a world of trouble, leaving Alistair to wonder if she'll show the third night of the ball.

Everything was wonderful. Lana swayed in a circle, following Alistair's lead. His hand held hers softly, his other resting on her waist as they danced to the music. The grand hall of the palace was empty this time, no one else there. Or were they? Everything was so dark, Lana couldn't tell. A single spot of light followed them wherever they went, darkness casting its shadow and engulfing everything else. Lana shivered with every step as her bare feet touched the cold floor. It seemed to get worse the more steps they took - colder, and colder, but none of it seemed to phase Alistair. Lana tried to focus on his smile, the warmth of his eyes, even as his heavy crown cast a shadow on her face. It became more difficult to keep up with him as the music sped. With each note the tempo picked up, gradually, almost unnoticeable until she began to realize the pull of the dark around her. Lana's heart pounded in her chest as Alistair seamlessly adjusted to the quickening tempo despite how Lana fumbled to keep up. The vibrato of a violin rang out like a wire, then there was complete silence, and Lana's eyes widened as she felt her right foot catch on her heel. She stumbled back, grasping for Alistair's hand. As her fingers slipped from his palm she fell down, down, into the dark, watching as Alistair's face turned to disappointment as the light remained on him.

Lana startled awake in her bed as she heard the bedroom door fly open. Her mother stomped into the room as the morning light filtered in through the window with a cool breeze. Her dream left as quickly as a snuffed candle, only fading smoke remaining. _Maker_, she had overslept. In her distraught the night before, it had been nearly impossible for her to fall asleep. She must have dozed away only hours before and slept for far too long.

“What in Andraste's name are you doing still in bed?!” Her mother was shouting. Her mother paused as her eyes darted to the window, and Lana's stomach opened up like a pit. _The window_. “_Why_ is your window _open?!_”

“I - I felt warm last night,” Lana stumbled over her words as she tried to come up with a lie as quickly as she could. “I must have fallen asleep before -”

Her mother grabbed her blanket, tearing it away from the bed, and Lana turned as white as her sheet as she remembered the loss of her shoe. She had been so exhausted from running home all the way from the palace, she had fallen straight onto her bed with no thought of how she must have looked. Time seemed to stand still for Lana, the calm before the storm she knew was about to come. For a moment, she wondered if she wished hard enough if she could turn herself into ash, to blow away through the window and be carried off on the wind. Her mother was turning red, staring at the offending foot stained in dirt.

“You left the house.” The fact that her mother didn't shout was the first sign of what was to come. Lana couldn't help the tears that welled up in her eyes and gave away her guilt. “You left the house at night when we were _sleeping!_ _Where did you go!_”

Lana's tongue had decided to stop working. The words were stuck in her throat, unable to decide whether a lie or silence would garner her a worse punishment. She had no time to make a decision before her mother grabbed her by the arm and flung her out of bed. Lana cried out as she hit the floor, unable to shield her fall as her mother continued grasping her arm. Her skin stung as the occasional splintering floorboard caught her skin as she was dragged across the floor and out of her room. She was pulled up suddenly to stand in front of the open closet door, tripping over her own feet as she was shoved inside and the door slammed shut behind her. Lana cried out, begging against the door as she heard her mother turn the lock. _Maker_, but she hadn't used magic! She had never been put in there but for _magic_. The darkness engulfed her, all but suffocating her with the promise of what was to come.

“_Mother, please!_” She cried loudly as she hit her hand against the heavy wooden door. Her finger, still out of place from her last punishment weeks ago, throbbed as it connected with the door, but she pushed through the pain, desperate to get out. “_Please_, I can explain! Don't leave me in here, _please!”_

Lana scrambled back from the door as her mother pounded back on it. Her back hit the wall with a light _thud_, her body shrinking against the wood while her mother yelled with a fury that made her insides churn.

“_If I hear one more noise from you, I swear to the Maker, I will burn that closet to the ground!_”

Lana clamped her hands over her mouth as sobs built in her chest. She slid to the ground, her breath erratic. She had to calm down. She _had_ to. She took deep breaths, terrified to move her hands from her face for risk of making noise. Her mother never made empty threats, she knew that for a fact. She had to calm down. What would happen to her once that door was opened again? When she finally saw light once more, what would be her punishment? She tried not to dwell on it, silently turning through page after page in her mind as she tried to calm her breathing.

_Threnodies? No, Transfigurations, chapter… Ten? No… Eleven? Twelve… Yes, it's twelve. Verse one. O Maker, hear my cry: guide me through the blackest nights..._

She choked down a sob as her breath shook. Her hands slid from her mouth to clasp in front of her face as she moved to her knees.

_My Maker, know my heart: take me from a life of sorrow..._

She pressed her forehead against the cold floor as she leaned forward, her hands still clasped tightly in front of her as she shook. She had cried in this very closet many times before, shut away from the world by her mother, knowing no better. Now that she had experienced a small taste of what life outside these walls entailed, now that she had felt the warmth of a kind smile and the touch of lips against hers…

_Lift me from a world of pain. Judge me worthy of your endless pride…_

Everything seemed more unbearable than before.

Hours went by. Hours of silence, of the occasional footsteps as one of her parents passed the closet. Lana's crying had subsided to silent tears, her sobs to full body shakes. She recited the Chant in her mind, fearful even of whispering it as she normally did when shut inside the pitch black. She knew better than to count her time in there - it would only serve to make her more of a wreck. At one point she had heard the distant sound of a knock on the front door, and a spark of hope had flickered inside her.

_“I'm sorry, Sister, but Lana will be unavailable for her lessons today. She was wandering outside last night and is being punished for it.”_

_“Dear me… How did you find her?”_

_“Her foot was filthy when I found her in her bed this morning, sleeping away past the hour with her window open. The Maker will guide me to find a punishment fit for her transgressions once I have the stomach to look at her again.”_

_“I see. If you'd like, I could -”_

_“I am sorry, Sister, but you are too gentle with her. A mage needs a stern touch to keep the demons at bay. I will deal with her in my own way.”_

_“Of course. May I check back tomorrow?”_

_“You would be better checking in two days. I think she will need to sit and pray for a while yet.”_

_“Thank -”_

Lana could hear the door shut forcefully, and the hope flitted away, disappearing into the void of dark that surrounded her.

* * *

Alistair was antsy. He bobbed on his feet as he stared over the crowd of lords and ladies for the third night of the ball. His hands fiddled with the golden shoe Lana had left behind the night before, the small thing tightly grasped in his hands. _Maker_, where was she? He had hoped that her nerves would have subsided as they had after the first night she had slipped away, but it was already past ten o’clock and she had yet to make herself be seen. This night he had worn an outfit more fitting of a king at the behest of his advisors: a white, embroidered jacket with golden embellishments, brown trousers tailored to his height, and, of course, his golden crown, to flourish the decision he must make at the end of the night. Truth be told he felt a bit like an imposter in the garb and crown, but at this point there was no trying to fool anyone. Everyone's eyes periodically darted towards him, frustrations and mutterings abound as he refused to dance with any person whilst continuing his search.

“Your Majesty.” Teagan approached Alistair with Arl Eamon at his side. Both wore rather expectant faces, eagerly awaiting the conclusion of the ball. “Have you made your decision?”

“I _have_, but I… Can't seem to find her,” Alistair murmured. He never took his eyes off of the crowd, fearful that he would miss her if he looked away for even a moment.

“If the lady wished to be Queen, she would make herself _seen_,” Eamon insisted. He looked at Alistair's hands in confusion, his brows furrowed. “Why are you holding a _shoe_?”

“She lost it, the other night when she ran.”

“She _ran_ from you? Are you _sure _you have made the right decision?” Eamon asked in disbelief.

“She did run from you _twice_… Perhaps you should have laid out some pitch on the main steps to catch her in,” Teagan teased, earning an outrageous reaction from Eamon as the joke went right over his head.

“Are you _mad?_ The amount of _distinguished guests_ who could have -”

“Please excuse me, your Majesty, my Lords.”

Eamon and Teagan looked down at Sister Leliana in her chantry robes as she approached them. Alistair briefly glanced at her before scanning the crowd once more.

“I'm terribly sorry, Sister, but I'm… A bit busy,” Alistair said.

“I assume you are looking for the owner of that shoe?” She said. A sparkling smile spread across her face as Alistair nearly gave himself whiplash with how quickly he looked at her. Leliana reached into a deep pocket of her dress, producing the matching slipper.

“Where did you find this?” Alistair asked eagerly.

“Just outside her home,” Leliana said. “I can take you to her, if you promise to help her.”

“Help her?” He repeated, his heart sinking.

“I can explain on the way.”

“Your Majesty - You have to make your decision by _midnight!_” Eamon shouted after Alistair as he took off with Leliana, leaving the crowds of people in the hall to murmur in confusion and excitement.

The two of them sped to the edge of Denerim on horseback from the King's stables. Leliana had shouted the details to Alistair along the way, as much as she knew. How Lana was a mage, that much Alistair already knew. But then, how she had been confined to her home by parents who feared her gifts, how she was currently awaiting punishment for Leliana sneaking her out to enjoy the ball. A fire sparked in Alistair's gut, and when they reached the small home he had leapt off his horse and found himself furiously pounding on the front door. Not a minute had gone by before the door flung open. Lana's parents, originally furious at the intrusion at such a late hour, quickly grew shock and confusion on their faces at the sight of the King of Ferelden standing on their doorstep, crown and all.

“Your Majesty, to what do we -” Lana's father had barely begun to speak when Alistair had walked into the home, not waiting for an invitation. Lana's mother stared after Leliana as if expecting an explanation that never came. For the first time that Leliana had ever seen, Lana's mother was speechless.

“Where is she?” Alistair asked. Lana's parents froze. Alistair stared at them, his face stone. “_Where is she?_”

“Where is _who_, your Majesty?” Her mother's voice was cold when she spoke, the novelty of the moment quickly wearing off as she put two and two together.

“The woman who fits this shoe.” Alistair pulled the golden slipper from his pocket, and Lana's mother snorted.

“You'll find no woman fitting of _that_ shoe in this home, I'm afraid,” she said.

“I'm the_ King_, you know. It wouldn't be a good idea to_ lie_ to me,” Alistair said, and for a moment Lana's mother's resolve faltered before it built back up rapidly.

“Not a lie, your Majesty, I _assure_ you,” she said firmly. “If anyone in this home was in possession of _that_ shoe, she would have had to _steal_ it, and will be rightfully punished for it.”

“She didn't steal it. I gave it to her,” Leliana said simply. Lana's parents stared at her with wide eyes, her mother's face turning the color of a freshly sliced beet in anger.

“Where _is_ she?” Alistair asked once more, interjecting loudly before Lana’s mother could begin to confront Leliana. Both her parents were silent, furious - unwilling to lie to the King, but just as unwilling to give up the location of their daughter all the same.

“Check the closet,” Leliana suggested.

“This one?” Alistair began walking towards the shut door, all the while Lana's mother protested loudly behind him. He turned the knob, frowning when it refused to budge. He looked at Lana's mother, his eyes darkening in a manner that made her cease her chatter. “I _demand_ you open this door _immediately_.”

“She's _not_ -”

“_Now!_” Alistair wasn’t one to yell often, but when the words left him it was enough to cause Lana's mother to scramble to get the key out of her pocket as his anger became obvious. She grumbled as she put it in the lock, turned it, and then stepped out of his way. Leliana ushered the two far from the door as Alistair opened it.

Lana squinted as the candlelight that lit the main room hit her eyes. She was pressed against the corner of the closet, her shoulder against the wall as she hugged her knees close. Alistair's face instantly softened as he saw her. Her hair was done neatly in a simple braid, not a hair out of place, so different in comparison to the more relaxed manner she had worn her hair the previous nights. The blue eyes he had seen sparkle so much before were dark, fear at the forefront as she stared at him with worry on her face. Small, dried patches of blood stained the side of her arm, almost unnoticeable in the dim light of the closet.

“_Maker’s breath_, Lana, what did they do to you?” Alistair asked quietly. He kneeled on the floor in front of her, trying to block her view of her parents. Lana visibly jumped, her body shaking as her mother chimed in.

“She directly disobeyed the rules of this home, your Majesty,” her mother said loudly. “She _must_ be punished for it.”

Alistair shot a glare in her mother's direction, and the woman immediately shut her mouth, though she looked at Lana with fire in her eyes as if daring her to disobey her any further. Alistair tried to force a calm smile on his face as he turned his gaze back on Lana. He held out his hand towards her, and spoke gently.

“Do you want to come out?” He lowered his hand as she quickly shook her head. “Mind if I join you, then?” He slid into the cramped closet with her, his legs hanging out the doorway as he leaned against the wall near her feet.

“I'm sorry,” Lana cried. Her voice was high pitched, shaking like the rest of her, and Alistair was sure he could feel his heart breaking. “I didn't know… I didn't know_ you_ were… I'm _so_ sorry I wasted your time. I never should have gone.”

“What makes you think you wasted my time?” Alistair asked earnestly.

“I'm a _mage_.” The word left Lana's mouth, and for a moment she choked on her breath, as if the very word was sickening. She furrowed her brow as he chuckled.

“Is that all?”

“_Is that - _did you hear me?”

“Yep.” He nodded. “I heard Sister Leliana on the way here, when she told me. You told me the first night of the ball as well. I remembered.”

“Then why… Why did you still come?” She asked as she swallowed. She froze as he reached forward, his hand gentle as he brushed the tears from her face. When was the last time she had felt a gentle touch in that home? Never whilst inside that closet, that was certain. It felt so foreign, yet she found herself yearning for it to never end, longing settling deep within her as he dropped his hand onto his bent knee.

“I can't have people running around my kingdom with one shoe on, Lana. I've only been crowned for a _month_, how would that look?” He smiled as her laughter choked through her tears. He took her hand in his, grateful that her shaking had calmed in his presence. With his other hand, he took the golden shoe and held it up for her to see. “Do you mind? Only, it's fairly dark in here, and Maker only knows if I've mistaken you for the woman I've fallen for these past nights.”

Lana barely managed a nod of her head, fresh tears falling at his words. _Fallen for_. Maker, for_ her?_ She shivered as Alistair carefully took her bare foot in his hand and slipped the shoe on without any fuss, then retrieved the one Leliana had given him from his pocket. It slid onto her other foot just as easily as the first and he smiled.

“Well, would you look at that,” he said as he took her hand, almost sounding surprised as if there had been any doubt.

“I can't be Queen,” Lana whispered. She gripped his hand tightly, terrified of letting him go despite her words.

“Of course not,” he said. “Technically it's _Queen_ _Consort_. I don't think anyone would besmirch you for the mix-up, though. Maker knows _I'll_ probably do it once, or twice… Or three times. Possibly much more. I think that _may_ actually be the first time I've gotten it right....”

“Alistair, I _can't_ -”

“Why not? Because you're a _mage_? Because of _them_?” He nodded towards her parents, both of whom were still standing nearby with upset faces and only Leliana blocking their full view. “The way I see it… You could say no and continue to live here with these rotten people, seeing Sister Leliana twice a week except for the days when you're locked in here for wanting some semblance of a normal life… _or_, you could say _yes_, and allow me to make sure that no one harms you ever again.”

“Who could possibly want me for their Queen?” She asked, her voice quivering.

“Me, for starters,” Alistair smiled. “Maker, Lana, do you even realize how special you are? There are mages all throughout Ferelden. Why shouldn't their Queen represent them? I know, it's crazy; we've only met _two_ _days_ ago… Maker, but if I have to choose in that short of time, it _can't_ be anyone but _you_... Please? Don't make your King beg, because I _will_ do it -”

Lana flung herself forward, throwing her arms around Alistair's neck as her lips met his. His arms wrapped around her middle, pulling her close as he kissed her.

“This is… _absolute madness!_” Lana's mother shouted. “_She _is… You _must_ be confusing her for someone _else! _A_ shoe_ fitting is no grounds for choosing a_ Queen!_”

“It may have just been once, but I'd know the feel of those lips anywhere,” Alistair murmured as he pulled from Lana with a smile. He stood, taking Lana by the hands and pulling her up with him. As Alistair turned to exit the closet, his face became serious once more as he faced her parents.

“Magic is _dangerous_, your majesty,” her father said grimly. “We've tried to stamp it out of her to no avail. You can't possibly think you'll have a better chance?”

“At suppressing who she is? No, I'd imagine I'd be absolutely terrible at it,” Alistair said simply.

“Should I get the dress from the other night? So you can change?” Leliana asked as she neared Lana.

“It's not necessary,” Alistair said. He turned back to look at Lana, taking her hands in his as he beamed down at her with a smile that warmed her heart. “She's perfect as she is.”

Alistair, Lana, and Leliana left Lana's parents behind as they took the two horses back to the palace. Lana rode on Alistair's horse with him, with his arms tightly wrapped around her to balance her as she leaned against him. She didn't dare to look back, for fear of her parents chasing after her if she did. Maker, but her heart felt as if it would burst at any moment. With every step the horses took she was taken further and further from that home, from that horrid, dark place she had been trapped in for so long. It was as if she had been lifted out of a nightmare and set into a dream. Still, she couldn't calm the anxiety that plagued her heart. What if her mother came after her? Could she? He was the King, would he be able to stop her? Would he _want_ to, if she persisted enough? And what about all the people at the ball, all those lords and ladies eagerly awaiting the news of the King's return with his future Queen? How would they all react to a commoner, an elf, a _mage_ being his choice?

“I will make sure they haven't given up on your return, your Majesty,” Leliana offered once they had arrived at the stables. She had hopped off her horse, handing the reins to the stable boy.

“If Eamon threatens to make a decision without me there, please remind him that I still have an hour?” Alistair asked before dismounting. As Leliana nodded and left the stables, Alistair placed his hands on Lana's waist and helped her off the tall horse. Lana clung to his arms, her grip tight even after her feet had touched the ground.

“Are you sure about this?” She asked quietly with a shaking voice. She was terrified to return home, but, still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that a terrible misunderstanding had occurred. “There were _so_ many people there to choose from…”

“Out of all I could pick from these three nights… I probably should pick the best for me, shouldn't I? The best for Ferelden. Someone who is kind, who wasn't there just to become Queen… You were the only one there who fit the bill, Lana. Everyone there only wants the _crown_. Do you… Do you feel the same way I do, Lana? Like your heart has never beat this hard before? Waiting for you tonight, I thought I would keel over if you didn't come. Do you feel that way for me?”

“I do,” Lana whispered with a shaking voice. She nodded her head, just barely, trying to choke down tears that fell anyway. “Maker, Alistair, I… I never knew what it felt like… I feel _weightless_ around you, like I… I…”

Lana trailed off, unable to find the words, but Alistair knew exactly what she was trying to say. He lifted her by the waist, sliding his arms around her to tightly hold her against him as he kissed her. Lana's arms wrapped around his neck, holding onto him for dear life as she returned each kiss fervently. Alistair could taste the salt of her tears with each brush of his lips against hers, but still he couldn't stop kissing her. Maker, but she was _perfect_. He knew there would be arguments about his choice, _especially_ from Eamon, but he didn't _care_. This was his choice - _their_ choice, perhaps one of the first the two of them had ever been allowed to make in their lives. As far as he was concerned, he was quite sure he had made one hell of a good decision and no one would ever take that from him.

After taking a few minutes for each of them to collect themselves, Alistair took Lana's hand as they climbed the steps in the courtyard side by side. Lana's heart was pounding, her stomach uneasy as she gripped Alistair's hand tightly. She could feel everyone's eyes on her as they walked towards the grand hall, the whispers as people watched them walk hand in hand.

“I don't know if I can do this,” Lana spoke timidly as they neared the large doors. Alistair stopped to face her, warmly smiling at her in understanding.

“I won't lie and say it's easy. I wasn't _raised_ to be King… It's been a _lot_, to be honest, and at times I've wondered if they made the right decision,” he admitted. He brought his hand up to her face, gently cupping the side of it as she leaned into his touch. “This is madness, honestly, picking the person you're to love for the rest of your life after _three days_. Not even _days_, just a few _hours…_ If tomorrow you wake up and it's not what you want, I won't force you to, and I promise I'll still keep you safe from them. But… I'll be at your side, every step of the way. One step at a time, starting with this.”

“Okay.” Lana nodded with a smile as she wiped more tears from her eyes. Alistair grinned widely as he took her hand once more and walked through the doors.

The hall was loud as it had been the previous nights. Music was playing, though hardly anyone was dancing. Most stood around in groups, talking excitedly as they gossiped about what each of them believed would happen as the night drew to a close. As Alistair and Lana walked further hand in hand, people slowly drew their attention to the pair, not immediately eyeing Lana but quickly quieting their chatter as they noticed the King's hand linked with hers. Whispers began, questionable murmurings as they eyed Lana's plain and tattered dress, her golden shoes that seemed very out of place on her in that moment, her _ears_…

“Where are Arl Eamon and Teagan?” Alistair asked loudly.

“Your Majesty, at last, you're back,” Eamon called out as he made his way he the hall with Teagan. As they neared, Eamon looked questioningly at Lana, his gaze traveling all over her from her braid to her golden shoes, his brow furrowing as he suddenly began to put two and two together.

“I've made my decision,” Alistair said with a wide grin. The crowd began to chatter loudly at this point, and panic set in on Eamon’s face.

“King Alistair, we should _discuss_ your… _choice _before making any _official_ statements -”

“Our agreement was that I could choose _anyone_ attending the ball these three nights,” Alistair said firmly. He met Lana's nervous eyes as he smiled at her. “Lady Lana Surana has accepted my proposal.”

“Your Majesty,” Eamon spoke low as he quickly neared Alistair. “You have not even _spoken_ to every Lady of nobility on our compiled list! _Surely_ you want to consider all your options rather than making a rash decision? This woman _clearly_ knows nothing of how a kingdom should be run -”

“I guess we're on the same page, then,” Alistair said, giving Lana a wink. “I've made my choice. You can have the crown if you won't accept my decision. I'll be her husband with it or without.”

The look on both Lana and Eamon's face we're almost mirror images at Alistair's bold statement. Lana's heart was pounding in her ears, making her deaf to the gasps and shocked comments from the people around them; he would give up being King for her? _Maker_, but they'd only just _met_.

“That won't be necessary, my King,” Teagan chuckled. He turned to the crowd, holding his cup high above in a toast as Eamon stared at him in horror. “To King Alistair, and the future Queen Consort of Ferelden: Lady Lana Surana!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to everyone reading, as well as those leaving kudos and comments! 
> 
> I originally meant for this chapter to wrap up the story (with the addition of a little epilogue for closure), but I'm so in love with this story that I'll be continuing to expand on it. Future chapters will probably take a bit longer as I map them out, but there will be more to come! In the meantime, you can find me as [DarlingRutherford on Tumblr](http://darlingrutherford.tumblr.com/) :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for those of you who read this first chapter, and especially those leaving kudos/comments! This chapter was mostly a way for me to get a lot of background in characters on the table, so the next will focus on getting the storyline rolling a bit more. :)


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